


Soft and Hidden Things

by sammysbangs



Series: Panty Kink [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Panties, F/M, M/M, Panty Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammysbangs/pseuds/sammysbangs
Summary: Dean has some R&R with his panty collection. It doesn't go as expected.





	

They were mostly from women he'd slept with.  
Sam never let him go to the store by himself any more - You can’t spend all our money on twinkies and beer Dean! - and anyway, it would be really embarrassing for the FBI's most wanted to be caught because he was shoplifting panties.  
But every once in a while he’d be with a girl, unbuttoning her jeans or sliding her skirt up, and suddenly he’d be reminded of a different kind of want.  
He'd run his fingers over her panties, go down her through them before tossing them aside, and it was never hard to hide them in the heat of the moment.  
In the morning when they couldn’t find their panties he would show them how hot he thought it was that they were going commando, and they would leave flushed and happy, the mystery of the disappearing panties forgotten.  
And Dean’s little collection would grow.  
He stumbled into this kink ass backwards, like he did most things in his life. Never thought about it until Rhonda Hurley kneeled in front of him and pulled her panties, still warm from her body, up onto him, and stared up at him with awe. And then blew him through the panties like no one had ever blown him before.  
He had hoped, sometimes, that there might be another girl who would ask. Or better yet, just tell him what to do, someone who had the same secret.  
But he couldn’t ask for it himself.   
Word might get out, get back to people. Back to Sam. Couldn’t risk it.

Back when Sam was at Stanford, and he was hunting with dad, but really mostly on his own, sometimes he would slip into a pair and wear them all day under his clothes. It was something he could have, something for himself.

He couldn't risk that now, hunting with Sammy. They got injured too often, had to cut each other out of their clothes too often.

These days he would rarely get to take his collection out of the secret pocket of his duffel. 

But today Sam was in the next town over interviewing witnesses, and Dean was going to do laundry, but before that, before that he would have some time to himself.

He pulled out his newest acquisition that he'd been itching to try out for weeks. Laid all the panties out on his bed, soft little scraps of lace and silk, pink and cream and black. This new pair was a lovely green, see-through lace detail on the front, and a green velvet at the sides. 

He slipped them on gently and reverently, and they were soft as butter, cool as they slipped over his hips.

He turned around to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. The panties were high cut in the back, and so low on the hips that they didn't quite cover his pelvic cut. He was getting hard already, a spot of dampness stained the lace a darker green.

He laid down on his bed, one knee drawn up, and ran feather light fingers down his body.

He touched himself differently when he did this, softer, teasing.

He pulled out an old reliable fantasy - cheerleaders behind the bleachers. He wasn’t lying when he told Sammy that if he could he would come back as a hot cheerleader.  
A college game though, to keep it clean. He could picture it well, big stadium, little blue cheer skirts. He saw a few college games, when… Never mind.

Hot cheerleader. Making out with Dean. In a tiny cheerleading outfit. Both of them.

Dean groaned, and slid a teasing hand down his cock, over his new panties.

He’d always wanted to try those tight little outfits. Liked the girls in them too. Both. Both was good.

He had a hand up the imaginary cheerleader’s top, and she was hot and eager and a giggly. 

He slid a hand up her little skirt, teasing her through her panties, and she pulled back and slowly traced a finger up under Dean’s skirt.

A long time ago, when Dean first had this fantasy, he imagined slipping his fingers inside the cheerleader’s panties, and then thought, what if, what if she might do the same? His heart was beating wildly when he slipped his own fingers inside his panties, and once he got used to the strangeness of it he came harder than he ever had in his life.

Now, this was a frequent part of his fantasies.   
Here, he was safe. Here, by himself he could try things, that out in the world might be far to dangerous.

Dean slid the back of his panties down, his leaking cock still trapped in the front, and eased the first finger inside himself. 

In the fantasy, the cheerleader gasped and bit her lip as she slid her fingers inside Dean’s panties, their legs tangled and their short skirts rucked up.

Dean angled his finger forward, lifting himself with a groan as he hit the right spot. He coated his hand with more lube, and added another finger.

In the fantasy, there was someone under the bleachers with them.   
It wasn’t exactly a private place, which was part of what made it one of Dean’s favourites.   
A soccer player type, tall and lanky, hiding in the shadows.

Dean never minded being watched. He was always good at putting on a show. And two hot cheerleaders going at it behind the bleachers, that was some show.

The soccer player drifted closer, focused with burning intensity on Dean, only Dean.

And Dean made it look good. He spread his legs just a little bit more to pull his skirt up higher, almost enough to see everything. And he kept eye contact, the guy never looking away.

In the bed, Dean began to stroke himself through his panties, still softly, but building a rhythm to match the rhythm of the fingers inside him, pushing up to put pressure on the head, falling back down to hit his prostrate.

And this was nice so far. Different, but definitely working for him.  
He had noticed guys noticing him, of course he had. And he played it up too, sometimes to make playing a mark even easier, sometimes to get an extra cup of coffee. And he’d liked the hot stares, he’d liked being wanted, but he didn’t dare think about anything more than that. Dad was always too close by, and then later Sammy.

But here, no one would know. Here he could try what he couldn’t in the real world.

He’d barely thought that through when the imaginary soccer player was on him, pulling him away from the cheerleader, big hands running all over Dean, lifting him up like he weighed nothing.

And that was hot. Dean always liked being thrown around. There were a few girls who were that way inclined which was always a good time, but it was mostly pretend, not someone actually lifting him, and slamming him bodily against the wall, and holding him up while kissing him like he was ravenous for it…

Dean sped up his rhythm, his bare feet kicking into the sheets.

In his mind’s eye he had wrapped his legs around the soccer player’s waist, riding his fingers.   
“Just like that Dean,” he said in a voice that was molten heat, but also something softer, something that warmed Dean, even as he was turned on beyond words. “So good for me.” His hand slid into Dean’s panties and took a hold of his cock with a confident grip. And those big hands felt so good.

Dean was so close now, so close to the edge.

And with his building orgasm a thought drifted to front of his mind, that his soccer player didn’t need to just use his fingers, because… because…

He pushed another finger into himself, the stretch burning so good, as he imagined getting a hand between them to fumble with the guy’s fly and sinking right down. 

His orgasm hit as if in slow motion, and for a moment he was suspended before the fall. 

He came, trashing with his fingers buried deep inside of himself, and the image of the soccer player, those warm multicoloured eyes looking at him in awe, and love, that perfect pink mouth open in silent pleasure.

“Sammy,” he shouted, but the realisation only sent further pulses of pleasure through him, now that he could see that face clearly.

Aftershock after aftershock hit him.

Finally, after a long time, he withdrew and tucked his softening cock back into his panties.

His body was drenched in sweat and come, and coursing with the joy of a really great fuck. 

Soon, he would have to get up. Soon he would have a massive freakout.

He laid back with a sigh, inadvertently smearing the come on his chest further, his whole body singing with pure joy.

Soon, but not yet.


End file.
